The Saga of the Scarf!
by The Sugarfaerie
Summary: Alicia, Angelina and Katie are fed up with Fleur Delacour stealing the hearts of all 'their' men. So they decide to get a little revenge. And the Yule Ball seems just the place to do it. Told in Alicia's P.O.V FINAL CHAPTER UP!
1. Train Ride

Hello, readers! I actually have a series of pictures drawn (by moi) for this fic. I'll try and upload them onto ArtisticAlley somehow. Argh, have to finish them first. Anyway, when I manage it, I'll leave a link.

Disclaimer: Am I J.K Rowling? No. THEN HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT ME TO OWN HARRY POTTER, YOU MORONIC LAWYERS! I FART IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION! YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMSTER, AND YOUR FATHER SMELT OF ELDERBERRIES! (ahem. Got carried away by Monty Python addiction there)

Anyway. The Saga of the Scarf. It can be taken as a prequel to my other G/A, F/A, K/L fic, Blood Ties. But the one difference is, well, this one's aiming to be funny. While Blood Ties has it's amusing moments, it's definitely more serious than this one. With no further ado, here's Chapter One!

**Entry One. Because I don't do dates. Maybe I'll consider it one day. Grr.**

Ahem. Just so you know, I'm only writing in the diary to suit Katie, one of my two best friends in the universe. She gave us, 'us' being myself and my other best friend, Angelina, these diaries once we'd thrown out some second year Hufflepuffs in order to get this compartment to ourselves.

She said she'd taken up diary keeping that summer on advice from her older sister Eliza, who said it was very therapeutic and character building.

Have I ever mentioned how ditzy Eliza is?

Obviously not.

Anyway, Katie had been made to promise to keep writing in said diary by said older sister, and, in order to share her torture with us, she provided us with sparkling new diaries as well.

Damn Katie and her hare-brained schemes.

So here I am, writing in this diary, while the train rolls on, BA BA BOOM, BA BA BOOM, TOOOOOOOOOOOOT.

That was me, trying to do a (failed) impersonation of the train. Katie's in the seat next to me, frantically scribbling away in her diary something looking suspiciously like 'I love Lee Jordan.' Angelina's opposite, having diligently written her name in her own diary, and is now reading the latest issue of _TeenWitch_.

(pause)

Sorry, got distracted. I was writing, as is probably obvious to even the greatest moron on the planet, when who should walk by?

Misters Hunksters/Pranksters-In-Chief, Fred and George Weasley.

I think I speak for every female in the world when I say _oo-er._

I mean, how could anyone resist them? Sigh. Can you imagine my reaction on my first day of school ever when I realised that the most gorgeous guy in our year was, in fact, _duplicated?_ Of course, now that I know them so well, I can notice differences between the two, but still, when it comes to eye-candy, _wow._

Why am I sounding all ditzy all of a sudden?

**Will end entry here, before brain truly gets kicked in to 'stupid' mode.**

A.N: Okay, the next chapter's where the action picks up! The meaning of the (admittedly strange) title will become clear as the fic moves on. Until the next chapter, au revoir, mes amis!


	2. Arrival of the Other Schools

Hello, readers, here is the next instalment!

Disclaimer: No, still don't own Harry Potter.

**Still refuse to write dates. However, it's many days after last entry. Will, however, write time.**

**Lunch.**

**Have decided to write date. Is October 30th. See how long this date thing lasts.**

Rejoicing in what could possibly be a good day. It didn't get off to a shining start, admittedly, as I woke up this morning to find a huge blemish (I refuse to use the word 'pimple') just beneath my nose. And, as much as all of us girls have tried, so far NONE of us have managed to perform a successful Zit-Zapping hex. 

Sigh.

However, was cheered up greatly by Katie bursting into the Great Hall at breakfast (she'd stopped to check the notice board about something), looking like Christmas had come early.

Unfortunately, she was prevented from telling us the exciting news straight away as Professor McGonagall stopped her in the middle of the room to reprimand her about her uniform.

Trust Katie to be forced to adjust her uniform before even sitting down for breakfast. Then again, I'm not surprised.

Katie is the official Queen of Uniform, err, Customising. Today was an especially fine example. She'd somehow managed to pull her white socks up to about two inches above her knees. Also, she'd shortened her skirt to even shorter than the among peers acceptable length (which is a good three inches above the knee), and, judging by it's ragged state, had used some sort of severing charm in order to achieve said length.

Anyway, I'm going off topic here.

"Guys!" she panted, as she shoved herself next to Angie and me on the benches. "Guess what? It's October 30th! That means the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving today!"

Of course, my stupid blonde brain had forgotten all about that. I looked to Angelina, who I could tell was thinking about exactly what had just crossed my mind:

"HOT FRENCH BOYS!"

And will you believe it, George Weasley leaned across the table to me and said, and I quote: "Aw, now I'm jealous! Why say that when I'm sitting across from you? I'm all hurt now!"

_Swoon._

Now, don't think I'm interpreting this as a confession of love. I could see he was joking, even without my knowledge that Fred and George tend to flirt with every girl they meet. Even so, the comment had me distracted all morning.

I was walking dreamily through the corridors thinking about a certain redhead when I realised I was late for my first class. Which was Potions.

Oh. Bugger.

I was so scared at the prospect of facing Snape that I dropped all my books, and made myself even later because I had to pick them up.

Lucky for me, Snape couldn't give me detention because the Triwizard students are arriving in the afternoon, ha ha.

I'll write later. I'm still living in hope that the day may pick up.

**Later**

Oh, someone kill me quickly, and end my suffering. Today was undoubtedly one of the worst days of my life.

Why? I hear you ask.

Well, my prospects of snagging George for myself have been ruined by a blonde haired French bh.

I'll tell you exactly how it happened.

We waited for AGES in the freezing cold for these people, right? I mean, it was COLD. Really cold. And stupidly neither Katie, Angelina nor I had bothered putting on stockings. Oh, how we regretted it.

After what seemed like hours, the Beauxbatons students arrived in a HUGE carriage drawn by massive flying palomino horses.

My first reaction was 'oh, those horses are so adorable!'

I have a weird mind.

Anyway, after the school's principal got out (she was massive too, by the way), all the students came with her and we went into the hall after Durmstrang arrived and everything was hunky-dory.

Or so we thought.

I had just helped myself to an extra large helping of my favourite food, spaghetti bolognaise, when one of the French girls came over to our table, asking the twin's brother Ron for the bouillabaisse.

I swear by all the racing brooms in the world, I've never seen so many male heads turn.

It turned out that the girl was part Veela, which I guess explains a lot.

The problem is, with a part Veela running around, there doesn't seem to be much hope for the ordinary mortals of the feminine division.

Fred and George seemed more impressed than I've ever seen them before. Oh, there's so way Angie and I can grab them now.

I hate this French girl, and I don't even know her name.

Grr.

(A.N)

Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I've managed to upload the first picture onto my website (which I share with my friend and fellow writer/artist, Ikoya), just go to and click on The Saga of the Scarf in the menu bar. I promise to give you a notification in my Author's Notes whenever I upload a new picture. This first one is of Alicia being late for Potions.


	3. Her Name

Wow, 13 reviews and this fic's only been up a few days! That's _mon record, _methinks.

Well, might as well hit the big stuff, I see no point in wasting time in what is today a rather uninspiring Author's Note.

Disclaimer: (sighs) I'm getting bored with these. I don't own _'Arry du Potter._

P.S: excuse my use of French. My bestest _amie_ has found a hate for the language (she's in an extension French class and is not enjoying it), so I'm doing this to get on _le_ nerves. We is doing well, yes yes we is (waves at buddies Yoko-hime the French hater and Ikoya). Hope you guys enjoy this!

P.P.S: This damn website stopped me from providing a link to my website. There is a link to it on my profile page, under 'homepage'. It should take you there. If it doesn't, and you really want to see the pics, e-mail me and I'll e-mail you back the address.

**11.30 p.m, same day.**

Have discovered that zit is even bigger than I thought. It is now the exact size and shape of a tomato seed. Shock horror!

**October 31st **

**Study Period**

Oh man, that French girl is more damn infuriating than I EVER thought she could be. Just then, poor Annie Miller (who also shares our dorm. A bit quiet and shy, but generally nice) burst into the room, practically in tears. She told us that she now didn't stand a chance of snagging Michael Roberts (dreamy Ravenclaw seventh year) because he's now infatuated with French Bimbo.

Poor Annie. I mean, no offence to her or anything, but she's a bit shy for Michael. He's more into the 'easy, snog me now' type. Ah well, don't want ruin her crush.

But once again, I'm getting off topic here.

Oh, have to go now, Peeves is doing the rounds and he has a bad habit of stealing people's diaries during study time and reading them out loud for the whole world to hear. See, he's reading Rebecca Cleyton's one out right now. Poor thing. I never realised she had a crush on Roger Davies.

**Later, same day**

Have just found out French Bimbo's real name. Fleur Delacour.

HAVE YOU EVER HEARD SUCH A STUPID NAME BEFORE? I MEAN, 'FLEUR' MEANS 'FLOWER'. WHO WOULD CALL THEIR CHILD FLOWER? ESPECIALLY IN COMBINATION WITH DELACOUR. FLOWER OF THE COURT. RIDICULOUS? I THINK SO!

Ahem. Sorry for the rant there. It's just that, now that she has a name, guys seem to be in love with La Belle Fille even more.

Oh, is there no more hope?

**November 1st. **

Angelina put her name in the Goblet of Fire! She's going to try out for the Triwizard Tournament! Oh, Angie! What an ingenious idea!

You see, Angelina was a bit downish yesterday evening, and told me and Katie that unless she came up with some sort of plan, there was no way she'd ever get Fred. Katie and I agreed. I mean, none of us are what you'd call plain, but we don't really stand a chance against a _part Veela._

It seems Angel came up with her own idea. Enter the running for the Tournament! Beat the Weasley brothers at something they'd failed at doing! So even if she doesn't get in, she'll still have won a bit of their (and most importantly, Fred's) admiration.

After she put her name in at breakfast, Katie leaned over to her and congratulated her on her idea. She just shrugged and looked embarrassed.

"Well," she said. "I thought it might be fun to enter, and, hey, it was just an idea I had."

Quidditch bless Angie and her ideas.

(A.N)

Well, that's it from me, see you in the next chapter! Keep those reviews coming!


	4. The Beauxbatons Champion

Hello, everyone! I apologise for taking a bit long with this update. Exams are coming up, so it's 'sit down and study or else' time, courtesy of my parental units. I hate exams.

Oh yeah, **domschica **said that Alicia swore a lot in this. Does she? I never noticed. In Australia (where I come from), swearing is no big deal. Words like 'bugger' although their meanings are rather awful, are not regarded as bad and are used in common language. So that's why I haven't noticed any major bad language in this. I'll try to keep it down to just a few 'damns' here and there where appropriate.

As for the reviews, wow! This has got to be my best fanfic so far in terms or Audience Appreciation. No one's ever told me that my fanfic was the best they'd ever read before- until now! WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**2:00 a.m**

**My dorm.**

**Guess it's still November 1.**

**Oh wait, it's not.**

I really don't want to be writing right now. Trust me, if I had to choose between writing and sleep, I'd choose sleep.

So why am I writing? Because of my stupid cat, Wilhelmina.

I woke up a few minutes ago because I was thirsty, so, naturally, I got out of bed to get a drink of water from the bathroom, leaving Wilhelmina fast asleep on the foot of my bed, or so I thought.

Big mistake.

I came out the bathroom to find that the bloody animal had shifted across the bed and now occupied my _entire pillow._

You could say that I could have just moved her, but you obviously don't realise how extremely large and fat she is, no matter what my mother says about her being merely very fluffy. And, as anyone who owns a cat knows, once a cat has decided to sit, she sits.

So here I am in a chair, feeeeeeeeling... veeeeeeery.... sleeeeeeeeeepyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.....

**Breakfast, a couple of days later.**

**See, I knew the date thing wouldn't last.**

Everyone is jumpy like there's a school wide caffeine addiction. Why? Because the champions for the Triwizard Tournament are being announced today, that's why!

I hope its Angie!

I'm writing this halfway under the table, and I can see Katie doing the same thing. After all, this is something worth reporting live.

**6:30 p.m**

**Common Room**

By the God of Quidditch and pink marshmallows, how could this ever happen to us?

FLEUR DELACOUR IS THE BEAUXBATONS CHAMPION!!!!!!

You see how I was in too much shock to write at the time.

The boys are smitten with her. Her Beauxbatons colleagues adore her. We don't get noticed. The world is coming to an end.

Needless to say, Angelina is not our champion. Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff is. Oh, and Harry Potter, though no one knows how he got there, as he's a Fourth Year.

Angel's disappointed that she didn't get in. She didn't shed tears or look depressed, because Angelina doesn't do that, but Katie and I know her well. We know that she's upset.

We gave her an entire box of Chocolate Frogs to cheer her up, because that's what best friends do.

**1:00 a.m**

**My dorm.**

**No, this time Wilhelmina hasn't taken over my pillow.**

Once again, I'm very tired, but this is too important to leave lying till the morning.

You see, we Chaser girls held a bit of a discussion. We have decided to act.

After all, just because a part Veela happens to be running amuck inside the school doesn't mean we don't have an equal right to try and snag our favourite piece of eye candy.

But first, we must get rid of the competition.

Women of Hogwarts, it is time to unite.


	5. The Council and the First Task

Well. Hello again. Welcome to what is a rather, ahem, _belated _update. The reasons for this update being so late are many and varied. They involve writer's block, school, homework, angst and a giant purple elephant. Well, maybe not the giant purple elephant.

If any of you have read my profile page (which I sincerely doubt you have), you will notice that I have an announcement up there announcing my temporary retirement from fanfiction. This is still going ahead. What I am doing at the moment is using my final days of sanity to exorcise any possible plot bunnies from my system. Turns out I have more sanity left than I thought.

Disclaimer: Nope, me not own Harry Potter.

**5:30 pm**

**Common Room**

**Resolve not to use dates still applying.**

A quick follow up post Operation Eye-Candy War Council. As the one with supposedly the nicest handwriting in our little trio, I have been chosen to write a transcript of the afore-mentioned Discussion. I personally think that this compliment about my handwriting is simply a case of Katie and Angelina being lazy, but hey, I can't exactly complain. They have to write my History of Magic essay for me as part of the deal.

So, here's how the War Council went.

_The scene is the Three Broomsticks in the sunny, pleasant town of Hogsmeade. In the now rather full back corner there is a gaggle of girls in the 13-17 year old age bracket. Some look positively murderous, others look simply confused. One of the organisers, a young woman by the name of ANGELINA, addresses the assembled._

ANGELINA: Women of Hogwarts! A French bimbo is taking away the chances we have with those of the masculine gender! Will we stand for it?

_There is an awful lot of murmuring, but the general answer is 'no'._

ANGELINA: I thought as much. Therefore, we must come up with a Cunning Plan to put matters to rights!

_One of the assembled speaks._

GINNY WEASLEY: And what is this Cunning Plan?

ANGELINA: Well… That's what the War Council is for, actually, to come up with a Cunning Plan.

GINNY: So you haven't got one.

ANGELINA: Shut up, you.

KATIE BELL: I thought you had a plan, Angie.

ANGELINA (embarrassed): Yeah, well…

_A tentative girl raises her hand. What was her name again? I really must find out._

TENTATIVE GIRL: We could do something to sort of play down her looks… I mean, it's not like she's that fantastic…

ANGELINA: True.

KATIE: Well, she is part Veela.

ANGELINA: Yes, but apart from that, what is so fantastic about Fleur Delacour?

KATIE: Well, she is a good witch.

ANGELINA: Yes, but apart from that…

KATIE: And her marks must be pretty high if she's in the Tournament.

ANGELINA: Yes, but apart from that- oh, shut up, Katie. _(aside, to ALICIA) _You can leave that bit out, Alicia.

ALICIA: But you said-

ANGELINA: Oh, never mind.

_This was as productive as the War Council got._

As I included the main part of the Council, I really don't see the point in continuing, so there. I'll just round it up by saying that the Council deteriorated into what was basically a bitch fest, and we didn't come up with a Cunning Plan. We will come up with one, though.

**Some days later**

**The First Task, also known as The Day Fleur Delacour Did Not Die.**

**7:30 pm**

**Common Room**

As mentioned earlier, today was the day of the fabled First Task. It all started off rather early, as at the ungodly hour of 6:00 a.m Hermione Granger's cat Crookshanks decided that chasing Wilhelmina down the corridor would be quite entertaining. Wilhelmina did not agree, and so responded with some very loud yowling that sounded mysteriously like Celestina Warbeck's Valentine's broadcast.

So basically, the day was off to fairly bad start.

Everyone was really excited about the First Task, even the girls who were glaring at me as if I was personally responsible for their early morning wake up call. Fred and George (insert swoon here) were doing quite a good business as a bet-placing agency, though I did notice George hit Montague with a Jelly-Legs Jinx when Montague tried to place a bet on Harry Potter's immediate death, which consequently sent him tumbling down into the second row.

Those two are just so adorably loyal.

_(please not that the next few passsages were no longer legible as they were obscured by severe drooling)_

Err… Sorry about that. I nearly forgot to report the Most Important Event of the Day, namely that all Champions are still alive despite being chased around the stadium by several grumpy dragons. Yes, that includes Her Royal Highness Miss Delacour.

The weather's bloody cold at the moment, and the stadium formed a sort of wind tunnel (Katie said that Pansy Parkinson did a great impersonation of someone called Marilyn Monroe at one point, whatever that means), which meant that we were freezing. You know, despite stockings being ugly, I really should consider wearing them one day.

Anyway, that's beside the point. The point, the absolutly wonderful point, is that George Weasley offered to lend me his jumper.

Oh. My. God.

Of course, I'm on good terms with the Weasley twins because of Quidditch (I'm one of the few girls in our year who can actually chat to them without blushing), but still! I was so shocked by it that I missed seeing Fleur Delacour's skirt catching on fire, which Katie and Angelina both assured me was the best thing they'd seen all week.

But who cares? George Weasley, consistently voted onto the Top Ten Hogwarts Hotties list (composed in secret every year around the girl's dormitories) leant me, Alicia Spinnet, his jumper.

Boy, is this going to make the other girls jealous.

Cheers,

Alicia.

So, another Update. Never fear, there will be more. I can't guarantee when, but holidays start soon, so I will certainly try and update then. Cookies to anyone who got the Monty Python reference in this chapter.

Until then, may flocks of Quaffles fly throughout your dreams.


	6. I Have a Cunning Plan

So, here I am again…

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter.

**Next day.**

**8.30 pm**

**Common Room**

Am still rejoicing in the aftermath of the George Weasley Jumper Extravaganza. I haven't told the girls yet- they'd giggle in that really ditzy way of theirs- but it has added to my classroom daydreams all the same.

Later on that day George quietly asked me if he could have his jumper back since we were now in the Common Room and it was getting warm, which I prefer to omitt from memory as it was considerably less romantic than the previous Event.

Oh my god, I'm turning into a ditz. And to think that in third year everyone teased me for being a tomboy… how time flies.

**The following day, as writing 'next day' seemed really boring.**

**7.00 pm**

**Detention with McGonagall**

Yep, I'm in detention again. Have to write "I must not dance obscene dances in public" 500 times. And as anyone reading this diary may have guessed (and there better not be, because if so I'll break their face), McGonagall's just gone out. Probably to drink some warm hot chocolate while I sit here and freeze, the mean old cow.

Maybe I should explain why I'm here? Then my humilation will really be complete. Oh well, might as well go all the way.

See, Angelina, Katie and I arrived early to Herbology by some fluke of nature, and as we're not allowed into the greenhouses before Professor Sprout arrives, we had to stand outside, freezing our royal buttocks off, as my dear (not) older sister Bernice would say. So to amuse us and gives us something to do that might keep us a bit warmer, Katie demonstrated some sort of weird Muggle dance called the Macarena. It wasn't to hard to learn (a lot of strange arm movements), so Angelina and I joined in. You know, I almost regret not taking Muggle Studies… From what Katie tells us they seem to be quite an inventive group of people.

Anyway, this went on for quite a while, getting steadily more and more stupid. Not that this is a hard thing to achieve, mind you. Not amongst us. Then McGonagall took that moment to go for a brisk stroll around the grounds, saw us, and promptly put us all on detention. I think it was the hip wiggling that offended her.

I can't even talk to Angelina and Katie because they put us all in separate rooms. This diary is the only thing vaguely entertaining. Maybe I should ask Fred and George where they get those two-way mirrors of theirs…

**Some days later**

**My dorm**

**About 2:00 am**

Note to self: next time you're on detention, keep a better eye out for the teacher.

McGonagall walked in just as I was writing the last entry. Got this diary confiscated for a week and another two detentions.

But that's not the point.

The point is that oh wonder of wonders, we're going to have a BALL! On Christmas Day! And we came up with a Cunning Plan to ensure that Princess Fleur doesn't rob us of the spotlight. That's why I'm still up so late, we had to have a long talk to work out the details and then had to relay them down the hall to the other girls.

McGonagall's face when she accounced the Ball to us in Transfiguration was just priceless. When she said "Let our hair down" it almost seemed as if this phrase was painful to her. Classic.

Anyway, I'd better write down the (admittedly still patchy) details of the Cunning Plan, because knowing me I'll have forgotten them by morning. Oh yeah, it is already morning… I'll have to catch up on sleep during History of Magic.

By the Guardian of the Quaffles, why do I always keep getting DISTRACTED?

Before something glittery grabs my attention, I now present the Cunning Plan:

Oh, the three of us can't take credit for the original idea, but we can claim the rest of it…

Shut up Alicia, shut up Alicia! Get to the damn point!

So, the Plan. Around lunchtime after we had been told about the Yule Ball, Ginny came running up to us yelling "I've got an idea for the Cunning Plan!"

Naturally, we were intrigued. "Well, what have you got?" Angelina asked.

Ginny puffed about trying to regain her breath for about ten minutes, until I think all of us were ready to throttle her for the information. Finally she managaed to say: "I heard Fleur Delacour talk about what she was going to wear to the Ball a few minutes ago. Her robes sounds gorgeous, but I don't think we can do anything to that-"

"We could spill tomato juice on it," Katie suggested helpfully.

"Ah, but then we'd get in trouble and might be sent away from the Ball," Angelina pointed out.

"Good point."

Ginny was still puffing at this point as well as adding a few sneezes (I think she may have a cold). "Yeah well, that's not all. I heard Fleur describing this really nice silk scarf she had…" _sneeze _"that she inherited from her grandmother or something…" _sneeze_ "that changes colour to blend with what clothes it's worn with" _sneeze_ (I was starting to fear for her health at this point) "and she's going to wear it with her dress robes…" _sneeze sneeze sneeze _"but she has to be very careful because it's very valuable and a family heirloom, so she can't lose it." _Sneeze. _"So yeah," she finished, "can we do anything with that?"

"We'll work on it," Angelina said briskly. That girl is Quiddtich captain material.

So, here's our conclusion: At the Yule Ball, one of the United Hogwarts Women (most likely someone small) will steal the afore-mentioned scarf (do they call it a scarf or a wrap? Whatever) from Princess Fleur. The scarf will then be passed from girl to girl throughout the Ball, ensuring that in her mad search for it, Fleur will never find the culprit or the scarf as the scarf's location will be constantly changing. She will then be distracted throughout the entire Ball and we will have free choice of any elligible male we disire.

Alright, I admit it. The plan sucks. But it's a start.

**8:30 am**

Oh man, why do these pimples always crop up on my face a short while before a big event?

I have no luck.

_Well, how do you like that one? I'm writing like wildfire at the moment- with any luck I'll be able to finish this fic before the end of the holidays! Expect Chapter 7 soon._

_As always, please review. Seriously. They make me write faster._


	7. The Topic of Dates

Well, the final chapter countdown has begun! Only about two or three chapters to go, it depends on how many parts I decide to split the Yule Ball into. But now the meaning of the title is revealed! Are you happy?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my copy of GoF and the DVD of the movie. The movie was actually what inspired me to start writing this fic again.

**Study Break**

**Common Room**

**11:30 am**

In all fairness, I actually wanted to get some homework done today… But the bane of my life, Wilhelmina, decided that my Charms essay would be a good place for a nice long nap. Am seriously considering leaving her at home next year, though I'm sure my little sister Clementine would protest and say that Wilhelmina would eat her trained white mice… Hey, there's an idea…

Still drooling over a certain red-headed twin, still hoping beyond hope that certain twin will ask me to the ball. Though really, who am I kidding? Am I really so gullible that I would take the offer of a jumper as a confession of undying attraction?

The answer: hell bloody yes.

**Great Hall**

**Dinner**

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Someone bring down a shower of acid tipped lightning bolts onto the heads of all redheaded males!

Remember when I said that the day Fleur Delacour arrived at Hogwarts was the worst day of my life? Well, I was wrong. Today is the worst day of my life. I feel like a flock of Hippogriffs trampled on me after an exhausting Quidditch match.

GEORGE WEASLEY ASKED A LITTLE FIFTH YEAR BINT TO THE BALL! In front of me, no less! He asked this girl in the Entrance Hall just as we were going into lunch, in a really loud voice so that everyone could hear!

He gave me this really filthy look as I walked by- what did I ever do?

And I thought everything was going so well!

**My dorm**

**Midnight**

**Sitting by the window with Wilhelmina on my lap.**

I think I've used up every tissue in Gryffindor Tower. Everything's been ruined. Talk about an anticlimax.

Katie and Angelina did what they could. Angelina slipped an extra dose of powdered toad extract into George's cauldron during Potions that caused it to explode, Katie refused to pass him the salt shaker during dinner and both of them kept throwing glares in his direction.

In a way, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Just before bed, Katie came up to me saying that Lee Jordan had asked her to the Ball and wether or not she should turn him down in respect for me. I said no way, she should go with Lee- it's not fair if both of us are unhappy.

I hope Angie gets asked out by Fred, then at least one of us would have snagged our favourite twin.

Meanwhile, I think I'm going to gorge myself on Chocolate Frogs. I'm starting to appreciate sweets more and more this year.

**Following day**

**Common Room**

**6:00 pm**

Revenge, thou hast a new name: Durmstrang!

I'll take this moment to announce that I, Alicia Spinnet, have been asked to the Yule Ball by a boy from Durmstrang, in front of George Weasley no less.

I'll write down the conversation Durmstrang Boy and I had:

DRUMSTRANG BOY: Your name is Aleecia Spinnet, is it not?

ME: My name's Alicia, yeah.

DURMSTRANG BOY: You have a very nice name, Aleecia. Would you like to come to the Ball with me?

At this point my heart begins to pound and I have no idea where to look. Do I accept? What will people think if I go to the Ball with a guy from Durmstrang? He's pretty good looking, so why would he want to go out with me when he could have prettier girls? These were some of the thoughts going through my mind.

Then I saw George coming down the hall, once again glaring at me. Well, just because he didn't ask me to the Ball doesn't mean that I can't go with someone else.

The script continues:

DURMSTRANG BOY: Of course, if you've already been asked, then I understand…

ME (glaring pointedly in George's direction and raising my voice a bit): No, no one else has asked me. And I would love to go with you to the Ball.

There. That should have sent George reeling! If he likes me at all, that is, which after recent events I doubt he does. Oh well, I've got a date, I've got a date, I've got a date…

**Same day, same place**

**8:30 pm.**

Dun dun dun…

Fred Weasley asked Angelina to the Ball! I was sitting down next to her telling her about Durmstrang Boy (I think his name is Vladimir or something like that) whe we heard Fred yell "Oi, Angelina!" from across the room.

She reacted very cooly, of course, as Angelina would never get worked up about something so trivial as being asked out by the boy she's liked since first year, but even she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

Looks like we're all set for the Yule Ball… Look out Fleur Delacour, you will never see us coming.

_Do you like it? The last few chapters have been fairly slow moving, but that's because I'm saving the action for the Yule Ball, which is in the next chapter (cue spooky music). Will the girls be able to carry out their Cunning Plan? Keep waiting to find out…_

_Reviews make my world go round…_


	8. The Trouble With Plans Are

Ta da! Back again. I might even be able to post the final chapter next week, if I don't start doing those three loooong essays I have due the first day back from holidays.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Christmas Eve (I surrender and write that it is December 24th)**

**The day before the Yule Ball**

**Gryffindor girls' bathroom**

**9:30 pm**

At this very moment, I have several wads of paper stuck between my toes and the room smells strongly of nail polish.

Yes, it's the night-before-Ball beauty session, and the bathroom is getting rather cramped. Parvarti Patil and Lavender Brown are stuck beneath the sink in a effort to find space.

A random seventh year is trying to thin her eyebrows using some sort of hex, and it seems to be going rather badly, as her left eyebrow keeps disapearing. I think she might have got it this time- no, eyebrow vanished again.

Am finding the tile floor a bit cold. Hopefully my butt will still be in the same shape tomorrow.

**Christmas Day, December 25**

**My dorm**

**7:00 am**

**THE DAY OF THE YULE BALL**

Deck the halls with bowers of holly, falalala lalalala. Tis the season to be jolly, falalala, lalalala. Don we now our gay apparel, falala falala lalala, I have forgotten all the words, falalala lalalalaaaaaaaaaa.

Merry Christmas! I am now the proud owner of a tin of broom polish and some colour changing ink, courtesy of my loving family. To get into the Christmas spirit, I'm now making use of the ink by writing in this diary in red and green. Very festive.

Katie, Angelina and I splurged on a joint Christmas present to ourselves last Hogsmeade weekend; a huge book called _One Million Tips for Aspiring Chasers. _Helloooo Appleby Arrows…

Fred and George gave us each a bag of toffees, but I think we've all got enough sense not to touch those.

Can't wait for the Ball tonight… I'll report everything once I get back, I promise.

**My dorm **

**6:30 pm**

**Two hours to go until the Yule Ball**

Angelina and Katie look fabulous. Katie's all in green with a black trimming, which suits her red hair really well. Angelina's wearing hot pink, which looks very good with her skin.

My robes are pale blue, and though Katie and Angie have said several times that I look nice, I can't help feeling that, being blonde, the robes will make me look washed out.

Oh well, never mind. Yep, that's right, never mind- there are more important things at hand, such as the Cunning Plan! Ginny Weasley is going to steal the scarf from Fleur once Fleur sits down to eat, then she's going to pass the scarf to Annie Miller from our year, who'll pass it to Susan Bones, who passes it to Katie, who passes it to Padma Patil, who passes it to Hannah Abbot, who passes it to me, I pass it to Lavender Brown, who passes it to Rebecca Cleyton, who passes it to Cecelia Wainwright from Ravenclaw, who passes it to Angelina, who passes it back to Ginny and the whole chain starts again.

Fleur will be running around ALL NIGHT.

You know, it's rather fun to be evil.

**Girl's bathroom**

**First floor**

**9:00**

**Yule Ball in full swing.**

Okay, phase one of Operation Eye-Candy complete. Ginny Weasley has successfully stolen Fleur's scarf and passed it on to Annie Miller. She did it rather quickly, actually- the girl would be a very accomplished pickpocket.

Hang on. Come to think of it, where did those two Galleons of mine go?

I'm far too suspicious.

In other news, I had a wonderful dance with Vladimir the Durmstrang boy. He can really waltz. He was going to lead me in a second dance too, but Angelina montioned me over to tell me about Ginny stealing the scarf.

Alright, I'll come clean. Vladimir may be an okay dancer, but he's somewhat… lacking in the humour department. Everything is just so serious with him! He practically burst when I accidentally put a foot wrong in the waltz, whereas George Weasley would have just laughed.

Argh, no! Stop it, Alicia! Stop mentioning George Weasley! Stop thinking of George Weasley! Try to erase his presence from you mind!

**5 minutes later**

It's not working.

**Half an hour later**

I've got the scarf! It's going really well, but the problem is Fleur hasn't seem to have noticed yet, as she left the scarf draped over her seat and hasn't sat back down yet to realise that it's gone.

Hmmm…. There seems to have been a flaw in our plan somewhere.

_Suspense is rising! There will only be one more chapter after this. However, I MAY write an epilogue… If I have sufficient encouragement ;)_


	9. One Magical Night

Oh my god. It's the final chapter. The end of the line. It's taken such a long time to get here, but here we finally are. Enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: Alright, yes, I confess! I do own Harry Potter! Nah, just kidding. I own nothing.

**December 26th (because yes, such an occasion is worthy of a date)**

**2.00 am**

**My dorm.**

Oh, you won't believe what I'm going to write.

Alright, I'll give you some time to think.

You really can't guess?

Okay, I'll tell you.

I am officially the happiest girl on earth. Seriously. I didn't think I would be, but I am. Let me say (say, write… whatever) what happened.

When I came out of the girls' bathroom after writing the last entry, Vladimir the Durmstrang Boy found me and asked if I wanted to dance with him again. I said that I would dance with him later, because I had to find Lavender Brown and give her Fleur's scarf. I could already see Lavender look frantically around the crowd, much to the annoyance of Seamus Finnigan, who looked as if he was trying to work up the courage to kiss her.

I finally met Lavender's eye and met her next to one of the columns to give her the scarf. She looked as if she would quite like the pocket the scarf for herself, so I told her to pass it on to the next person as quickly as possible for 'added confusion' on the part of Fleur. I wouldn't want to get mixed up in a case of theft.

I went back to Vladimir, and he was looking at me with this overly serious look on his face, as if someone had just died. To be honest, I thought You-Know-Who might have returned for a moment. But it wasn't nearly that important. "Aleecia," he said in this solumn voice that in retrospect was rather funny, "I cannot help getting the feeling that you would rather not be with me. You are always running off somewhere. Perhaps it is best that I leave."

And he left! Just like that! I must admit to having felt a bit upset about that. Not that I was sorry to see Vladimir go as he was a bit of a bore, but I was upset about the reason he left. He'd left because I was running around with that stupid scarf instead of dancing with him! We, with all of our careful planning, had done something we couldn't possibly have forseen: in trying to distract Fleur Delacour's attention away from the boys, we'd gone and become distracted from them ourselves! There was nothing for it. I had to warn Katie and Angelina. The plan had to be stopped.

**12.30 pm**

**Common Room**

**Shortly after lunch.**

Err, sorry to keep things in suspense. I fell asleep in the dormitory while writing the last entry.

Anyway, to go on with the story…

I fought my way through the crowd to where I thought Katie and Angelina would be, but they were gone. I went into a bit of a panic. What if they too sent the wrong message to their dates and wound up in my situation? It would be my fault for not warning them.

I was so caught up in searching for them that I didn't realise I had run over Neville Longbottom until I heard a strangled squeak. I apologised and helped detangle him from the hem of my robes (I think a seam got ripped in the process), and ran straight into…

George Weasley. The one person I'd been trying to avoid all night. He didn't look too pleased to see me either, in fact he just glared at me for a few minutes. "Why aren't you out there dancing with Durmstrang git?" he asked.

"Oh, you mean Vlad the Impaler?" I couldn't help saying.

"Who?"

I wasn't feeling like being nice, so I just said "Vlad the Impaler. Dark wizard. You should pay more attention during History of Magic, even Muggles know about him."

George shrugged off this slur about his studying habits and kept inquiring about Vladimir. "So, I take it you two aren't together anymore?" he asked.

"No!" I said, glaring. What gave him the right to interrogate me about the guys I went out with? "We were never 'together', he just asked me to go to the Yule Ball with him, and then he pissed off a few minutes ago. How about you? How are you going with the fifth-year bint?"

George's face softened. "Left me when she found out that my family didn't have as many Galleons as she'd hoped. Not that I'm depressed by that, mind you. She was annoying."

At this point I started to get the feeling that something else was going on. Did I miss something? "Then why did you ask her to the ball?" I asked.

George shrugged. "I heard Durmstrang Boy talking to some guy in Ravenclaw about how you were a good choice to take to the Ball, because you're so good at Quidditch," he murmered. Was it just me, or did he blush? "I thought this Vladimir guy had already asked you and the Ravenclaw boy was just confirming that it was a good choice. I found out later that the Ravenclaw boy was Vladimir's cousin and was just recommending some Hogwarts girls. But by the time I found that out, I'd already asked Claudia and you were mad at me."

Okay, now this time he really did blush.

By this time I was seriously about to faint. Did that mean that George had been intending to ask me to the Ball? I had to find out. "So why did you get mad?" I asked carefully.

George ran his hand through his hair. He always does that when he's embarrassed. It's so cute. "Because I thought you knew that I wanted to ask you!" he blurted.

Hello. This was a new development. I swear, I nearly did faint when he said that. "Then why didn't you ask me?" I said, by this time a bit frustrated. "I thought you weren't interested!"

"Alicia!" George lowered his voice to a whisper, his ears now an attractive shade of puce. "I've been trying to ask you out since we were in fourth year, but every time I either couldn't work up the nerve, it wasn't the right moment or you were going out with someone else."

Now I was blushing. "Well… I'm not going out with someone now…" I said quickly, more to break the ice than anything else.

This seemed to return George to his old self, because he straightend up with a huge grin on his face. "True. Alicia Spinnet, would you care to dance this next dance with me?"

Well, what do you think I said?

The rest of the Ball was, in a word, _heavenly. _Katie and Lee, both being Muggleborns, demonstrated a Muggle dance called the 'jive' that Fred and Angelina found very amusing and consquently tried out themselves, much to the displeasure of the various people whose shins they accidentally kicked. Lee and Katie tried to out do them by dancing a very fast polka from one end of the dance floor to the other, during which Katie losing control of her highheels and Lee tripped over his own feet due to their speed, resulting in them crashing into one of the tables.

As for me, I danced a very romantic waltz with George, followed by a disasterous tango and a lame, but very funny attempt at the cha cha.

And I kissed him! Yes, I, Alicia Spinnet, Queen of Embarrassment and ditz extraordinaire, kissed George Weasley, Trouble Maker-In-Chief.

He grinned, and asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend.

Then the waltz music started up again, George spun me around and finally all is right with the world.

**Later**

I suppose I should write what eventually happened to the scarf. Well, we returned it eventually. The younger girls passed it around a bit more until they finally became tired of it, and Padma Patil returned it to Fleur's chair. I couldn't help noticing that it landed in Fleur's cold tomato soup, though.

So yes, the Saga of the Scarf has ended. I swear that this has been the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Not that the truth really matters.

END

_TA DA! The final chapter has ended! I may come up with some material for an epilogue, but I doubt it- the end's pretty final._

_I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Au revoir._


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